Hair Ties
by windwraith
Summary: Quatre wants to uncover the mystery behind a certain pilot’s curtain of hair. This started as a One-shot but grew into a drabble series involving all the boys. What are the G-boys distinctive hair styles about? Will they change them? Please R
1. Snippit one

Hair Ties

Liquid blue eyes woke to timid sunlight filtered through a greasy window. The dingy hotel room wasn't much different from the safe-houses they had occupied throughout the war. It mattered little that it was Preventer business that had brought them to this little out of the way pocket of semi-civilization. Quatre arched his back and stretched before turning over in the mussed sheets to regard the other side of the room.

His partner was clearly already awake. The single bed opposite his own had been made and on the warn duvet cover lay the contents of his 'working kit' electro-binoculars, lock-breaker, gloves, rope, grapnel, GPS, assorted listening and tracking devices, gun ammo, knives…tooth brush, shaving kit, clothing neatly folded…Trowa was so meticulous especially when it came to his kit. Old habits were hard to break and the former Heavyarms pilot had never seen reason to make the attempt. It was one of the few things that held true in all facets of his admittedly diverse background. Mercenary, circus performer, agent or spy, all agreed, you keep your gear; accessible and in top condition because your life depends upon it. 'One minor mystery solved' The blonde smiled smugly to himself, though he knew there was much more to the enigma whom he knew as Trowa Barton.

Quatre's attention then shifted to the young man himself. Trowa stood before the mirror that had been mounted on the wall in the far corner of the room. His lanky form was stretched; all his weight was balanced evenly on his heals, rather than his toes. His back was straight and his shoulders in perfect line with his slim hips. His long fingered hands were over his head, elbows were straight out from his shoulders. In one hand he held a round bristled hair brush. His movements were methodical. Each stroke began with the short hairs at the back of his neck and swept forward into the fall of hair that characteristically shielded at least half his face and ended with a careful twist of the wrist. Between strokes he used the fingers of his free hand as a comb to separate the curtain of hair from beneath. Starting at his forehead and moving outward to the ends of his fringe.

Quatre watched his companion's early morning ritual with curiosity. Having never before witnessed the care with which the other managed to obtain his unique style. Something about the process seemed vaguely familiar but Quatre was hard pressed to pin down just what it was. He seemed so engrossed in what he was doing. All the former pilots existed on a hair trigger. The transition from wartime alertness to peacetime watchfulness was a difficult one. The blonde didn't want to startle his taciturn partner by moving abruptly or without due warning. "Trowa." he spoke the name quietly before rising from the bed.

"Hm?" the other acknowledged but did not turn from the glass or pause in his systematic brushing.

"You know, I never realized it took so much care to maintain that style of yours." Quatre observed softly. "I don't think Heero places any thought whatsoever into his grooming. I wouldn't be at all surprised if someone gave him a crew cut when he was about ten and its just been let go ever since. He'll likely need a hedge trimmer to set it to rights. Duo also lets his hair grow however it wants. But he has reason. Did you know he keeps his braid as a memorial to all the people he's cared about? That is why he is so protective about it. WuFei's mind numbingly tight tail has significance too. It symbolizes the training and discipline of a dragon warrior. It is one of the few ways he keeps alive the traditions of his clan. Even the tie he uses belonged to his young fiancée. What about you? Where did you get your distinctive style?"

"This is the way mother always groomed me." The taciturn youth explained with an off handed shrug.

"I wish I knew my mother." Quatre sighed, "When I came of age Father turned his publicist loose on me with a bunch of fashion magazines. She is very intimidating woman but she knows her job well. She sat me down and told me which style 'best suited my features and coloring' and every few months her horde of cosmetology people descend on me en masse. Haven forbid I should get split ends…the way they go about it, I wouldn't be at all surprised if life as we know it would end if my hair ever got long enough to touch my collar. But they are just staff it must have been nice to have….Wait a minute; I thought you said you couldn't remember either of your parents. You didn't even know Cathy was your sister till after the Eves Wars. But you've worn your hair like that as long as I've known you."

"Um hmm," Trowa acknowledgement was wordless as he curled the brush and lifted it up and away.

Quatre finally recalled why the process seemed so very familiar. "Trowa…was 'mother' a lion?"

His partner finally paused half turning from the mirror and Quatre was treated to the unusual sight of two bright green eyes, Trowa smiled. And Quatre got the impression that was all the answer he was going to get.


	2. Snippit two

Long thin fingers meticulously combed through thick coffee colored hair. He was pretty sure all the matted places were free now but truly taming this unruly mop was impossibility. It would still stick up in every which way regardless. It reminded him of someone else he could name, A sly twist played about the corners of his mouth. Then he judged his task finished and changed positions, curling up on the floor of the cage to give Prince better access to his own mane. The old lion placed one heavy paw in the small of Trowa's back and soon the rough tongue fell into a steady pattern rasping from the back of his neck to the crown of his head and the whole length of his prodigious forelock. It felt so good. Lions are incapable of purring and so was Trowa still he sighed closing his eyes and relaxed.

Someone cleared their throat noisily and Trowa winced. He purposefully waited till the darkest hours of the night so no one would catch him. The ringmaster had never quite gotten over the shock and that had been years ago now. In the long run it was just better not to be seen. Cathy never wanted to intrude when he needed some 'alone time' so that left… "Yuy," He guessed aloud.

"Barton," That inflectionless voice never showed surprise, "Are you just about finished?"

"Why, you want to go next?" Trowa smiled, white teeth glinting in the darkened circus tent. "You could do with a bit of grooming," He joked lightly.

"Thank you no." Heero deadpanned, "We have a mission."

"Why am I not surprised?" Trowa snorted arching his back in a catlike stretch. "Thanks friend," He nuzzled the old lion one last time before rolling to his feet and exiting the cage.

The two Preventers fell in to a companionable silence as Heero accompanied him back to the mobile home Cathy kept for him to return to between missions Trowa could feel those analytical Cobalt eyes scanning the small confines of his trailer. Heero didn't judge but Trowa wondered what the other agent thought of an ex-mercenary's half-hearted attempt at normalcy. Quatre had called the place cozy. And Duo thought it Fine. For his purposes the furniture was battered but comfortable. The duffle bag he kept ready for instances like this lay packed and ready beside the door. When it came down to it, that duffle, and the pictures of his comrades tacked around small round mirror were all that made this place _his._ Green eyes lingered on each precious memory before glancing at his reflection and running his fingers through his still slightly damp bangs. Almost as an afterthought he picked up a brown grease pencil to scrawl a quick note for Cathy on the glass. She knew what he was and knew he wouldn't change. But that didn't stop her from worrying after him. "Mission specs? Anything extra I might need?" Trowa asked as he grabbed his bag, his mind was already miles away.

"Not really. We can pick up the rest at headquarters before we head to the airstrip." Heero nodded and led the way to his waiting jeep. As they passed the taciturn agent jerked his chin in the direction of the lion's tent. "You do that often?" He asked.

"Sometimes," Trowa admitted. "Quatre guessed something to that affect a few months ago."

"Very perceptive is our 04." Heero grumbled almost too quiet for Trowa to catch.

"He caught me by surprise." Trowa confirmed. "I am often amazed how his mind works."

"Hn," was the more familiar reply.

"Quatre was hypothesizing about your hair too." Trowa admitted, "He thought perhaps someone gave you a crew-cut and you'd just let it grow out however it wanted."

"J." Heero confirmed. The frown that crossed his friend's features said there was clearly more to the story that that. Trowa canted his head to the side in silent inquiry knowing any stronger interrogation would cause the perfect solder to recede back into his impassive shell. He waited for a few heartbeats then Heero continued.

"It wasn't always like this. I used to be quite…meticulous about it. Getting highlights and using gel and all, I suppose, if you can imagine, I styled it a bit like Kushrenada when I was a boy." He almost smiled eyes shining in the moonlight. "Odin took tremendous glee in messing it up in any random moment. I resorted to caring a foldable comb, like a switchblade, to fend off his assaults. It became sort of a game between us. After he died there wasn't any point." He shrugged helplessly. "I left my comb when I took up his gun. That was why J cut it, so I'd forget."

Heero turned again to head for the jeep leaving Trowa standing there for a second. "I'm sorry." Trowa didn't know what else to say, words had never been his strong suit. He bit his lip in thought for a moment then used his longer stride to catch up to his friend. Still he was surprised the amount of effort it took to reach up and run his fingers through that unruly chocolate mane. Heero's eyes widened in surprise but he didn't growl, as Trowa had expected. In fact the other agent hadn't even tried to bite him. Trowa just had to hope Maxwell never found out.


	3. Snippit three

Tan fingers flashed across the keys beating a cadence in keeping with his thoughts. Intense blue eyes scanned the text as it formed on his screen. Mission reports had been one boring continuity that followed him most of his life. Commander Une required them, Doctor J demanded them Odin had actually given him a letter grade as if they were school assignments. Heero couldn't even imagine a time where he wouldn't be required to document each and every aspect of the missions that comprised his life. But there WAS more to him than that perhaps not _much_ more, but more none the less.

"What _is_ that thing," Chang bit out from the other side of the cramped office they shared for the better part of six months.

"Care to be a little more specific 05?" Heero asked not looking up from his screen.

"On your desk, it was there when I came in this morning."

"Yes, it was. And as for what it is, it is a box. Roughly eighteen centimeters long, eight centimeters wide and six centimeters in depth covered in some type of aluminum composite foil secured with synthetic nylon ribbon."

"It looks like a present." The dower agent scoffed flopping down into his desk chair.

"It does." Heero agreed saving his report and powering down his computer.

"Is it from Relena?" WuFei asked with a smirk.

"No. The ribbon is green, not pink, and that is a square knot, not a bow."

"Is it a bomb? WuFei asked, "if it is, I'd thank you to open it in the hall. It is my office too you know."

"Why would Barton give me explosives?" Heero wrinkled his nose at the idea.

"Why would Barton give you a present?" The other agent asked wryly one ebony eyebrow quirking toward his taunt hairline. "And you neglected to say the thing originated from Barton."

"You asked what it was, not where it came from." Heero explained succinctly.

WuFei rolled his eyes, "You are worse than Maxwell sometimes."

"Hn," Heero shrugged off-handedly then continued, "Regardless, _this_ is not a present. It is a remembrance of sorts."

"A remembrance?" WuFei echoed.

"Yes Chang." Heero frowned, he hadn't expected to have to explain himself. "Like the shrine you keep in your apartment to remember L5 or, that stubby little dragon tail at the nape of your neck."

At the mere mention of it WuFei's hand gravitated toward the tightly bound tuft of hair. "Why?" he whispered softly. "What have you lost?"

"Today is the anniversary of Odin Lowes death. It happened moments after he was forced to assassinate a man he admired. The man whose name I bear." Heero felt his jaw clench and nearly crushing the silver wrapped box in his fist.

WuFei saw the emotion cross his partners usually impassive face and toyed with the pencils in the cup on his desk. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." He apologized.

"It is all right." Heero sighed. "I never told anyone. 03 must have looked into a few offhanded comments I made before a mission a few months ago. I never expected him to do something like this though." He set the box back on the desk and slipped off the ribbon.

"What is in it?" Chang asked. Heero removed the lid to show him.

WuFei wasn't terribly surprised at Barton giving Heero a knife, but when He thumbed the small silver stud revealing a comb rather than a blade the other Agents mouth gaped stunned. That surprise was only magnified when the silver wrapped box was also found to hold a small tub of hair jell. The perfect soldier surveyed his reflection in the darkened screen of his computer and proceeded to style his perpetually unruly locks. He quickly slicked the sides back, then encouraged the top and back into careful curls. The effect was rugged yet alluring. "I suppose I should go all the way and get it colored too." He mused.

"What?" WuFei squawked, "Y-you can't do that. Hair coloring isn't good for you; is a sign of vanity! I suppose it is all right for a woman but you are not...its just...unnatural!" WuFei said as his mind tried to grapple the unreality of his companions action.

Heero snorted, "When has anything I do been classed as natural? Besides, Men do it all the time Chang. It is nothing to be ashamed of. When I was a boy I got mine lightened regularly to look more like Odin's son. It doesnt mean I'm vain. I always liked the way I looked with a few honey colored highlights. J wouldn't allow it but hes dead. I don't have to be the perfect soldier anymore. I can do what I want. It was Trowas idea really. I have been rather depressed. In fact, I believe I tied your record. Duo said I managed to make six recruits cry with a single glare. This is 03's way of suggesting that instead of mourning Odin's death and taking it out on others I ought to do something to honor his life and the good times we shared. You should try it. I have seen the picture you kept in your Gundam, Chang WuFei. I look at you and I see very little that resembles the young scholar in that photo. You spent years trying to become a mirror image of the girl you lost. Are you aware of how much of yourself you've lost along the way? If Meirin cared for you as much as you care for her, Is this truly how she would want you to honor her memory? I know what it is to look at your reflection and see a stranger staring back at you. If you don't like what you see, Do something about it."

WuFei blinked as him and had nothing to say.


	4. Snippit four

Tie Four

He fiddled nervously with the Vid-phone control and almost jumped startled when the connection was made. A sleep rumpled Duo Maxwell regarded him with bleary violet eyes. He blinked then his mouth opened in surprise when he recognized exactly who was calling at, WuFei glanced at the clock at the corner of the screen and winced, 3AM on a saturday. The Chinese man's mind spun all sorts of excuses and apologies but dismissed them just as quickly. This situation was bizarre enough without adding to it by…being nice. He frowned. Realizing he typically wasn't when it came to Maxwell. He may as well hang up now and hope the braided agent thought he dreamed the entire episode.

The silence stretched on as those violet orbs watched conflict flick across his face. "Somethin the matter Fei? Duo asked finally. No smart-aleck remarks; Just those four simple words.

"I have a mission, I require your particular experience." WuFei heard himself say.

"No problem I'll be there in 20." Duo nodded running fingers through the wisps that escaped the confines of his braid.

"N-no, I…its something of a…," WuFei back-peddled awkwardly, surprised that his fellow pilot had agreed without further details.

"Top-secret I understand." Duo said placing a finger beside his nose, "Be there in a few ticks." The screen went blank.

"What have I done?!" WuFei gasped placing his face in his hands.

Ten minutes later there was a gentle rapping against his apartment door followed by the 'snick' of skilled picks working the lock. In walked Agent Shadow, dressed head-to-toe in trademark black, cap pulled low over his face, kit bag slung casually over one shoulder.

WuFei still sat on the stool elbows on the kitchen countertop facing the lifeless vid-phone. "I'm sorry Maxwell." He breathed.

"Why sorry Fei?" Duo asked coming up behind him.

"I got you here under false pretences." He admitted.

"Not a mission then? The braided agent raised an eyebrow.

WuFei shook his head no, "I…" he began then braced himself, like a child forced to take some foul tasting medicine. "Iwantyoutodyemyhair." He blurted out in one heedless rush.

"What?" Eyes widened unbelieving, "I'm not sure I understood. Would you mind repenting that?"

"I want you to dye my hair." He ground out through grit teeth.

"Why would I know anything about that?" Duo looked baffled stroking the chestnut braid as if he was attempting to comfort the thing from the mere idea that the stunning chestnut shot thru with copper and gold might not be 100% natural.

Now that the initial topic was broached, and Duo hadn't laughed in his face WuFei relaxed considerably "Pulleeze" he actually managed a passable impression of the braided one rolling his eyes as he said the word. "Your hair is very important to you…other-people's hair…not so much."

"I am un-familiar with that of which you speak." Duo prevaricated delicately.

"Don't try it Duo. You don't lie and I did attend the party at preventer HQ when Zechs returned from the Mars project. Don't you think his hair held just as many memories as yours does?"

"There are any number of reasons why Marquis might have arrived at that party with green hair." Duo observed obliquely.

"I can read Maxwell. The sign was rather obvious. 'Welcome back to our Martian Prince' I saw you hang it from the balcony fifteen minutes before he arrived.

Duo knew it was useless to deny it any longer. He grinned unashamedly. "Zexie might be on our side now but he _was_ our biggest rival for a long time. Interplanetary jetlag is a wondrously entertaining thing. How could I not take advantage of that! Besides I left a big clearly label bottle of neutralizer in his shaving-kit. Mr. Jolly Green could go back to being the Platinum Princeling a trice if he had wanted too. In fact I don't know why he didn't. It isn't difficult I even left him directions."

"So you say. Which begs the question, Will you help _me_?" WuFei asked.

"Sure thing man, what do you have in mind?" Duo asked

WuFei tugged off the tie letting his jet back hair hang loose to his shoulders. "Can you just do the tips I want it accented a bit like Noin's except red." He pointed to the ominous bottle on the table "Those instructions are in six different languages, four of which I believed myself fluent, but I still can't makes heads-nor-tales of it. I don't want to end up bald."

"Not a problem, just place yourself in my hands." Duo's Cheshire grin gave WuFei serious second thoughts.

"You realize if this goes wrong I'm going to tell everyone it was just another of your pranks."

"Of course Agent Dragon, Mission accepted. I will officially disavow all knowledge of your complicity in this matter."

"Thank you Duo." He whispered casting dark-eyes to the tile floor.

"Not a problem buddy. Besides, I understand. I've a lot-o-memories tied up in this braid of mine. But change is good it helps remind us what we're living for. If I don't shake mine loose from-time-to-time it will loose the shine."

"Your ghosts are all right with that kind of thinking? You haven't forgotten them?" WuFei whispered his voice suddenly horse.

"My ghosts want me happy -- they remind me each and every day." Duo nodded solemnly, then gave his friend a wry grin, "and twice on Sundays."


	5. Snippit five

Tie Five

Duo sat on a locker-room bench cooling-down after his work-out in the Preventer Rec-center. For him that meant he unwound his braid and was running a brush through the tangled strands. "For Father Maxwell" he whispered counting out the strokes.

1. He taught me to read.

2. He accepted my faults.

3. He didn't yell when I ate all the communion wafers.

4. He bought me new clothing.

5. He made me feel wanted." Duo continued for five more strokes then switched sides.

"For Sister Helen," he said counting again.

1. She taught me to braid my hair.

2. She baked ginger-bread mobile-suits.

3. She read bedtime stories.

4. She trusted me to take apart her radio when it wasn't broken.

5. she made the orphanage a home.

His eyes were closed as he struggled to hold on to each fleeting memory working his way to ten.

"For Solo" he intoned softly switching sides again. Ten strokes for his orphan brother. His lips moved and he was hardly aware of the words he spoke with each stroke, the boy had been his world; the one who taught him how not just how to survive but how to live. In the gutter existing by whit and cunning alone, struggling to feed themselves, he still made time for fun. Solo gave him pride.

"Five strokes for the family I never knew; Ten for each of the friends that I do. Ten for my loved ones who are now gone and five more because the future starts with each dawn." He sighed.

"Mind if I join you?" came a velvety voice. "I don't want to intrude."

"Naw, its OK, public place and all that, I'm near done anyway" Duo shrugged, dividing the silky chestnut mass into three and working them together: Solo, Father, Sister, Solo, Father, Sister. His whole life good times and bad woven neatly together. "Did you enjoy your laps?" he asked the tall agent.

"I did." Zechs nodded settling down on the other end of the bench "I missed a lot of things on Mars and I'd say starting the day with a swim was among the top-ten. That and long showers, Soaking baths…Sauna, Jacuzzi, I thought I'd never get free of that pervasive red dust. Preventers definitely know how to spoil their agents. If I didn't have a mission later I could easily spend the entire day right here."

"The facilities are nice that is for sure. Still, I thought Uni'd give you another week to settle in before putting you in rotation. You sure you are up for it?"

"She wanted to, but I requested active duty. Sally cleared me physically and I think it is time I was doing something useful. I've been an exile much of my life, after Sanq, the wars, Treize, Mars. I'm tired of hiding. I like feeling I am a part of things again. I wanted to thank you for that."

"Me? For what?" Duo arched a brow.

Zechs pulled his top knot loose and the long, still green, cascade fell around his bear shoulders. "I was actually worried about working with you pilots. Sure I stepped in to help put down the Barton insurrection, but that was out of necessity. I never wanted us to be enemies. But I couldn't be sure how you'd feel seeing me every day. I'd heard you five don't exactly "play well with" others. Most people can't perform at our level. It is dangerous for them to try. I was resigned to being the odd man out." broad shoulders shrugged. "Then I wake up to green hair."

"It was just a childish prank." Duo mumbled staring at the tile floor. "I usually get shouted at and chased around with a sword for things like that. I didn't really mean anything by it. It was stupid."

"So you say, but I think differently. I know people, even preventers, were disgusted 'the terror of earth' was returning to terra-firma. They seemed torn between thinking I might explode any minute, or shatter like glass. History led me to believe that should the god of death come calling, someone like me might expect a bit worse than a dye job. Your pranks are only harmless to those you care about. All I've heard these past few days is how our resident dragon loosed his tail and the fire bled out of his belly and into the tips of his hair. New look, even temper and Maxwell's the miracle worker." Zechs grinned, "As I see it Shinigami's mark is practically a badge-of-honor. The sign was a nice touch too. It looked like you put a lot of time in making it, what with all that green glitter. "

"Actually I only did the lettering. The glitter was Quatre's idea. But don't you dare tell him I told you. The poor thing got as much glitter on himself as the sign. He wasn't at the party becouse of it. You can still see the odd speck sticking here and there. If you mention it he will blush to the tips of his ears, it is really adorable."

"Treize held Young Mr. Winner in highest respects, even before we learned he was a pilot. They met at some benefit or society thing and he was quite impressed by the boy's professionalism and maturity. After Zero I imagine some treat him just like they were treating me. I'll have to remember he has a playful side too."

"Just don't mess with _his_ hair, his publicist will flay you alive." And the self-proclaimed god of death shivered at the thought.


	6. Snippit Six

Snippit Six

"You know I used to dream about having you draped across my dining room table but never like this." Lucrezia Noin smirked down at him "Though I must admit it IS a memory I'll be happy to take back to Mars.

Zechs snorted from where he lay fully clothed with his spectacularly green hair splayed out like a fan across said table. "I do love you Lu but…"

"Yes, but…I know. Where do you want me to put the fox?" she asked fingering the intricately carved wooden stamp,

"Left side, down near the hip, medium green, please," He explained. She dipped the wood block in the appropriate hair dye and pressed it firmly into the curtain of hair near the bottom edge. Zechs knew the patterns would be lost when he stood but the overall dappled effect was what he was going for, camouflage patterns not highlights.

"Where did you find these anyway?" She rummaged through the cardboard box to find another stamp.

Zechs closed his eyes remembering. "Pagan had them in his cottage. The old man is one of the worst packrats I've ever seen. Always has been. I'm grateful for it now though. If it wasn't for his little idiosyncrasies nothing I remember from old Sanc would have survived the burning. Theese were mine. I came up with the characters and Pagan carved them from my drawings. Then we used them on the walls of Relena's nursery. The palace had plenty of staff and professional decorators could have probably done it better. But my father wanted me to feel involved in mother's pregnancy without getting underfoot. She had a very difficult time of it, both before and after the birth. I didn't learn just how difficult until long after they were both gone." He frowned then sighed in regret. "The King thought I needed a positive outlet for my energy. He was probably right"

"You? A rambunctious child? The lightning count? I never would have guessed." Lu said feigning astonishment in a play to distract his darker musings, and then turned back to the task at hand. "Oh, this one with the bow around its neck is cute." She pulled one of the stamps from the box. "Just Ducky in fact…" she sang a bit off key, and playfully danced a little two-step. "Rubber ducky you are the one… let's forget the rest and use this one."

Zechs mentally struggled with the rapid shift of gears. "No, Lu I want them all to fit besides, there can only be one short-duck." He admitted, thoughtlessly, then specified, "Light green right-shoulder or above."

"Short duck?" She caught the slip and raised an eyebrow as she put the stamp on the hair so the mark would fall where he had indicated. "That would make this one…" she took out the next stamp, markedly larger than 'short-duck', with a decidedly elongated neck…

"Shut-up Lu." Zechs challenged. Even at Victoria academy she had been entirely too perspective for her own good. He should have known better say to say anything at all. Admittedly this was his idea, though he _never_ would have thought to do it if not for Maxwell. The Former Deathscythe pilot kept his memories tied up in his braid. Zechs thought it might be nice to have his a bit more…near at hand as well. He had known Lu was both available and crazy enough to help. Unfortunately he had forgotten just how 'quick on the up-take' Miss-Fire had always been. Now it was clearly too late.

"Your favorite Mobile suit was called what now?" She taunted playfully. "I'm sure you remember it. It is a known fact, written into history books and everything. No one seems to know why it had such a name though. Many have asked but Zechs Marquis never gave anyone a straight answer. Could it possibly be because it was a Princes secret to keep. Hmmm."

Zechs could feel his cheeks burn and imagined the color was all the more prominent in contrast to his green hair. That had been one of the few things he had liked about wearing a mask all those years. Even Treize noted how the thing concealed his blush. "Just, just…" he sputtered. Goose always protected Duck. That was just how the stories went. Princess Relena might act like a regal swan now, but he would never forget his lil short-duck, waddling around in yellow footie pajamas, forever getting in trouble. It was a brother's prerogative. One of the few he had. Noin made the connection without him having to say anything. She knew him that well. It was one of the reasons they found they couldn't be _together_ as a couple on Mars. She didn't press the issue, and he loved her all the more for it.

"One Tall Goose, Dark green, dead center so it will sit between your shoulder-blades?" She suggested.

"Oh, go ahead," He sighed. No one would be able to tell what it was anyway. And he supposed it _was_ fitting. Still he was lucky he and Lu would have most of earth-sphere separating them in a few short days time or he'd never be able to survive the teasing.


	7. Snippit Seven

Snippet 7

"I can't believe it!" Relena fumed pacing the immaculate pastel sitting room her ankle length skirt swishing in agitation. "Green! He does this to spite me, I'm sure of it. It is only a matter of time before the press find out then where will we be?"

"Miss Relena calm down. Your brother is a big boy he can make his own decisions." Lucrezia tried to calm the agitated princess.

"Have you seen it? What am I saying you must have, you were at the party. He looks like a circus freak!"

"No, Trowa's the circus boy, his hair isn't any stranger than mine." Lu said reflected.

"Oh that doesn't matter. Dye fine for a girl and your navy hi-lights are subtle. But all over Green it is a travesty!" Relena still looked a bit sickly at the thought.

"Hello, you sound like WuFei." Noin scowled, "Even that dragon has seen the error of his ways. And, for your information, my hair color is completely natural. This particular trait has been passed along various branches of my family tree since the Cosmic Era and it was one very famous Commander, A. Zala who was responsible for it. A fact I happen to be rather proud of."

"Wow, I remember learning about him in pre-colonial history at St Gabriel's. Lady Lacus was my idol!" Relena gushed.

"Well THAT explains your infatuation with the color pink." The dark haired woman nodded.

"I wasn't infatuated; I only had a few suits that color." Relena defended.

"One must not forget the pearly pink limo." Noin smirked.

"It was a gift!" the princess exclaimed.

"R-i-g-h-t," Noin drew out the word unbelievingly. "Would you be less averse to the idea if your brother's hair was pink and not green?"

"I most certainly would not! What was he thinking?" She renewed her rant, "Doesn't he care about me at all? I've been trying so hard to get people to see he isn't a threat anymore. I tried to convince them he just wants the chance to be left alone and live quietly. They wouldn't have let him come back from Mars if they thought he was still of a mind to shake the sphere from its foundations."

"Now Miss Relena, don't you think you are being a tad over-dramatic? Surely you can't put green hair in the same class as dropping a colony, or saving earth from said colony. Besides even your Heero has highlights now and you can't say they don't look good on him."

"Again, subtle changes, only people who know what Heero looked like before would even notice, and there aren't many of us who do." She sighed, "My brother apparently, doesn't have a subtle bone in his body."

"Oh make no mistake Agent Wind isn't always gale force, he can do subtle when he wants to. Your problem seems to be his unpredictable nature. I probably know him better than anyone alive and he is constantly surprising me. The trick is not to let him know when he's done it. Take everything in stride."

I envy your relationship more than anything Lu. I want to get to know him outside of the controversy. Now it looks like that is not going to happen. He seems to crave drama." She shook her head, "He'll never settle down and be a proper prince."

"You are right in thinking he'll never make a proper prince. Trying to fit him into a set mold will only drive him away. And for the record, he doesn't crave controversy or drama; it is other people who seem intent on thrusting him into it. Green hair is only an issue if you make it one. Don't do it. Your brother loves you and THAT has been one of the few constants in his life. You've noticed the Gundam boys experiencing a bit of a fashion insurrection lately and Zechs is no different. This is peace time and they are warriors. My ancestor Athrun learned reinventing yourself takes as much courage as sitting in a mobile suit, more in fact. Try to be a little understanding and give the pilots some slack as they figure things out for themselves."

"I want to. I really want to, especially with Milliardo. I always dreamed I had a big brother. More than anything I wanted someone to look out for me. Now I learn I _do_ have a brother and he _has_ been looking out for me. He even stopped me from being kidnapped when I was a girl. Still he confounds me at every turn. He is a total stranger. And he keeps getting stranger and stranger." She frowned. "Honestly, who ever heard of a green haired prince?"

"Actually the green was Duo's doing - Green men from Mars. It was a prank. Then Zechs decided he liked it. Did you really dream you had a brother?"

"Sort-of." She looked a bit uncomfortable. "It's rather ironic when you think about it. Most girls pretend to be princesses in disguise. I never did. Most of _my_ imaginary friends were farm animals."

"Don't tell me you pretended about short-duck and your 'brother' was a goose." Noin chuckled.

"How did you know?" Relena asked wide eyed. "I barely remember the stories myself. I know Rex Fox was always after Duck and Goose had to come rescue her. The rest is a bit fuzzy. I tried to find stories online with no luck. I searched kid's books and TV series too but couldn't find anything at all. I was beginning to think it was all in my mind."

"No the stories are as real as your brother is." Noin Chuckled. "You've just got to 'goose' him into telling you

-  
(If you don't know Lacus Clyne and Athrun Zala are from Gundam Seed)


	8. Snippit Eight

Snippet 8

The warm water felt wonderful. Relena surrendered herself to the skilled hands working lather into her hair. She'd already forgotten his name but Dorothy recommended him and there was no denying her fork-browed friend had an eye for quality. The blonde heiress was several chairs down enjoying a pedicure. The massage came next. It was a miracle Pagan managed to get them appointments on such short notice. Dorothy had been ecstatic but to be entirely honest, Relena had something of an ulterior motive when she invited the blonde for a day of pampering.

Once her hair was rinsed the stylist applied the conditioner and curl-relaxer and let it set. The concoction smelled foul but was necessary to tame the unruly mess. Unless she had a mind to let her locks grow as long as her brother's. Then the weight would pull out the curl. He'd e-mailed a picture of them as children. Seeing him with short puffy hair still brought a smile to her lips. Relena and Dorothy emerged from the changing rooms dressed in luxurious yellow robes and made their way to adjacent massage tables. Dorothy made a show of it at first, her sounds of enjoyment made the poor masseuse blush. But the blond grew board quickly and Relena took advantage of the lull to interject her own discussion topic into the mix.

Conversations with mistress Catalonia were often lessons in strategy and misdirection. Relena had spoken to her for hours only to learn the woman hadn't answered a single question. If she wanted this conversation to end up anywhere near where she whished, Relena thought it best to begin with something innocuous. "I had a lengthy vid-call with my brother last night."

"MMmmm," Dorothy arched her back like a cat. "He is well I take it." She purred.

"Quite. He is settling well and finding working for Preventer rather rewarding," Relena recounted.

"That is good to hear, Mars is very…alien re-acclimating oneself to earth gravity can be awkward, I must admit he looked a bit…off color…when I last saw him." Thin lips quirked and forked eyebrow made it clear what Dorothy was referring to. Relena would not rise to the bait. Her brother had green hair. She was all right with it…honest…she was…really. "Now Dorothy," she mocked playfully, "You of all people should know my brother has always been a colorful character."

"Ah yes, a verdant imagination, who knows what might sprout from that head of his."

"Who knows indeed?" Relena smiled "I was surprised to learn you two were close."

"Is that so strange, my cousin was dear to us both and the summers drew us together."

"So he was telling me." even two years later Zechs still found speaking of Treize difficult, but there was no denying the former dictator played a significant roll in who her brother was. If she was to succeed in her 'mission' to know Milliardo better than she would have to know of the past they shared. "Still I thought you might be able to shed some light on something he mentioned."

"Perhaps Miss Relena, I so strive to be helpful."

The former queen of the world almost scoffed at that, but it was an opening of sorts. "Why don't Foxes make good ducks?" she asked finally.

Dorothy let out an unladylike snort that Relena only belatedly identified as laughter, when Dorothy's face split with a grin that would do the cat from Alice's wonderland proud. "Lady you are asking me to divulge a family secret."

"But Milliardo _is_ my family. Doesn't that entitle me to a share the secret?"

"Perhaps, it did begin on account of you after all. But I must tell you I have no real recollection of the event in question. I was a toddler at the time and only heard it in the retelling."

"Was it was something often mentioned in your cousin's presence?" Relena asked,

"Who do you think I herd it from in the first place?" Dorothy smirked. "Zechs Marquis was a moody young boy. He bore little resemblance to the prince with whom my cousin had been acquainted."

"Milliardo said your cousin had been a guest at the palace before Sanc fell. I remember the stories of the fox trying to steal duck away and goose coming to rescue her. Treize was Rex was he not?" Relena asked.

"Actually your father was the first to play the roll of Rex Fox. He would scoop you up and toss you into the air; because little ducks ought to learn to fly. Then he would catch you and pretend he was going to eat you. You would squirm and laugh. Then your brother would have to rescue you, generally getting chased and tickled in the attempt. All of that ended along with Sanc and your brother forgot how to enjoy anything. My cousin decided that, since I was of the appropriate age, he should begin the game anew in hopes Zechs would join in the fun like he used to. It would not have worked save for one thing. Catalonias aren't waterfowl. My cousin tried to 'steal' me, and I poked him in the eye; gave him quite the shiner too. _That_ Zechs found uproariously funny. Treize said it was the first time he'd laughed since coming to live with them. Now you know."

"Now I know,' Relena echoed trying to imagine what Treize would have looked like with a black eye…it was almost as unbelievable as Dorothy getting her eyebrows plucked...waxed...pruned? 'Fixed' would be the best term she decided.


	9. Snippit Nine

Snippet 9

Relina was totally engrossed in the magazine she was reading, or at least she appeared to be. Dorothy suspected that she was more focused on her thoughts and the noise of the hair drier currently encasing her head. Regardless the former Queen of the World was literally lost in her own world. Dorothy sat before the mirror examining her newly sculpted brows. Gone was the characteristic fork that marked her as a descendant of the lineage of Dermail. The weight of that heritage suddenly lifted from her shoulders as well, she felt like a new woman.

Perhaps she ought to take this whole 'make over' thing to a new level she mused, how difficult could it be to adopt a new personality?The blonde heiress smirked running a brush through her long platinum locks and on a whim parted her hair down the middle and fashioned each length into the only fashion a certain braided Shinigami feared more than her formerly freaky brows, 'scary-une-buns.' she chuckled. The things that boy came up with never ceased to amaze her and she could barely wait to see his reaction to her new look, trading brows for buns would probably put him into an apoplectic fit…but it would be such fun.. She thought gleefully then cast a look over her shoulder to be sure Relena was still lost to the droning of the dryer which gratefully she was. It would not do to ruin her image completely by acting so childish. Treize had known of her wicked sense humor of course…and Zechs when he could be made to cooperate. but aside from her childhood companions most still saw her as the ice princess she pretended to be.

"Get your hands off me you insufferable sycophant!" the shout was almost a shriek and immediately garnered the attention of everyone within earshot. "Get back…leave me be. If you don't so help me…you WILL regret it!" the voice was near frantic.

Dorothy Catalonia slipped from her styling stool and quickly made her way down hall and around the corner drawn to the ruckus like moth to a flame. The spectacle was every bit as delicious as she had hoped. One Quatre Raberba Winner had been backed into a corner by more than a half dozen personal attendants, image consultants and PR personnel. Presently he was standing on one of the stylist chairs dressed in a terry cloth robe holding a blow dryer in each hand as if they were wing zero's twin buster cannons. His manner and authority seemed to have most of those in the vicinity completely cowed…all but a stern looking woman holding a clipboard as if it were a shield. "Mr. Winner, get down from there this instant and stop this ridiculous display!" she scolded "What would your father say!"

The outrage on the young blondes face drained to stone, his arms dropping to his side. There was a look of triumph on the woman's face but it was short lived. "You're fired." The boy said quietly.

"What?" his aid asked stunned.

"You Are fired." Quatre said again, his voice even. "I don't need you. I am the CEO of WEI not my father. I don't need you picking out my shirts or telling me how to wear my hair or who I can and can not spend my time with. YOU ARE DISMISSED, see my secretary to collect your pay and be gone From my presence…from my life!"

The woman gaped like a fish, "Leave now," Quatre said jumping down from his chair and advancing on the harridan.

"But..." she faltered, backing away her flunkies keeping in step falling back as well.

"GO!" he shouted throwing up his arms sending them scuttling toward the door. A display like that deserved to be recognized. Dorothy began applauding and she wasn't the only one in the spa to do so…though she had likely been the first.

Teal eyes blinked at her and the shaggy blonde head canted sideways for an instant Quatre's mouth opened then closed then opened again before he finally managed a "Dorothy?"

"That was brilliant Mister Winner truly exquisite." She beamed clasping her hands to her breast.

"Maybe I was too harsh…maybe I should ring her cell and apologize." He wavered.

"You will do nothing of the sort." Dorothy scolded mildly, then changed tactics, "Besides it seemed as if your complaint was completely justified to me. What was the matter again?"

"The guys are doing something with preventer this weekend and she wasn't going to let me go." The fire returned to his normally calm eyes all thought of apologies forgotten for the time being. Through grit teeth seethed, "She said it wasn't appropriate for me to be seen with them. APPROPRIATE!!! Trowa and the others…"

"The woman is clearly an idiot." Dorothy assured him. "Now since you've lost your stylist, how about something new… something she would never allow.

"What do you have in mind? Nothing permanent I hope."

"Oh no nothing like that, one summer I helped Treize…" she leaned in and whispered in his ear.

Quatre chuckled darkly, eyes shining thoughtful and bright, "You know Miss Catalonia I should know better than to listen anything you come up with while wearing you hair like that…but I like it…I really like it."

"Its no more drastic than anything the others have tried as of late." She defended, but it seemed the Winner heir was already sold on the idea.


	10. Snippit Ten

Snippet Ten

Clearly Agent Sand had a different notion of 'camouflage' than he did. It wasn't a bad thing. In fact the young man's disguise was perfect, green shorts, tan shirt and diagonal sash bedecked with colorful patches, blue neckerchief bearing the familiar logo. Golden hair and a doe-eyed expression made him look harmless.

No wonder these boys had been so effective during the war. If any of his specials had caught Quatre on the perimeter they would have disregarded him completely. If _he_ had been caught, as he was, decked out in cameo-gear with even his green hair tinted in darker shades to blend more easily with the branches, well, there was no mistaking that he was in fact an enemy combatant. Of course his objective had always been not to get caught and he hadn't, exactly…he'd even fulfilled the objective. Pity he hadn't seen that sharp branch. But the Lightning Count didn't give up.

As the youth approached something caught Zech's eye. Were those cornrows? He blinked in surprise almost falling out of his tree. Yes, Quatre Raberba Winner had criss-cross cornrows forming a pattern like a Belgian waffle across his scalp. Zechs smirked recalling just why Cousin Dorothy had been banned from the Kushrenada estate. Treize's father had not been amused.

Quatre paused seemingly catching his breath, facing away from the tree. "How badly are you injured Agent Wind?" The boy asked voice pitched so it wouldn't carry far.

"How did you…" Zechs whispered. He hadn't said anything when he radioed in for extraction.

The boy touched the ground with two fingers, "Trees do not generally bleed red, how badly Mr. Marquis."

"Flesh wound, right thigh, must have reopened when I climb up to avoid the patrol."

"Very likely, they are still out there, watching me at the moment. Were you an eagle-scout commander?

"Never had the privilege; though you pull it off well."

"It always pays to be prepared. Your uniform," Quatre informed surreptitiously leaving his knapsack behind as he pushed himself away from the tree. "I will lead the guard-dogs away."

"I appreciate the assist."

"The darker shadowing in your hair makes a nice effect. Like Heero's highlights only in reverse." Winner observed.

"Originality is often in the accents." Zechs quipped. "I like your braids too, suits you better than the glitter."

"Not dazzling enough?" The young blond smiled the tiny beads ending each braid glinted in the sun.

"Brilliant, in more ways than one, Agent Sand" Zechs chuckled softly.

"The rest of 'the troop' will be along shortly. Climb down and dress quick as you can and do be careful. Scout's teach first-aid but don't press your luck."

"Will do," Zechs answered.

"Hay you," Quatre called out to the watchers, "Do you have a radio I could use? Our Scout master is hurt. We fixed him up so he's all right, but he can't walk far. Can you call the ranger station?"

Zechs was less than graceful disembarking from the tree. Changing clothes was far from painless. Moments after his camo-gear went into the knapsack agents Dragon, Shadow, Sky, and Void emerged from the tree line.

"Poor jolly stuck in a tree…" Agent Shadow grinned "We get merit badges for this right?" he asked untangling his braid from the branches he brought to make a splint.

"I'll be sure to talk to Une." Zechs confirmed.

Agent dragon scoffed but had the wound cleaned bound and splinted in no time. The surprisingly strong arms of Agents Sky and Void lent support, helping him stand and together they ambled down the path.

"Hay Cattie!" Duo called out. Quatre was still chatting away with the four enemy soldiers.

"Hi guys, guess what, these fellows are ESU-guard on some kind of training mission. It's like capture the flag against the Preventers. Isn't that great? Officer Talbot tells me we can enlist when were18. We'd even get admission credits since we're scouts.

"Really? What if we decide to become Preventers? WuFei frowned running fingers through his red tipped locks, free of their usual tail, "I hear some of them are younger than 18?

"Rumor, something about kid-soldiers from the colonies, but, I never met any." The afore-mentioned 'Agent Talbot' smirked, "Here comes the jeep. We have to stay here and guard our flag back in the clearing. Officer Ripley'll run you back to the Ranger station. That is the Preventer base. Don't tell them where our flag is all right?"

"I didn't see anything back in the clearing." Quatre smiled innocently.

"You wouldn't, it's up one of the trees." One of the men explained as he helped Zechs into the jeep.

"Thank you." Zechs smiled as the boys climbed in beside him.

"So, Miss Ripley, you gonna try for the Preventers flag after you drop us off?" Duo asked "Its perfect cover."

"That's hardly fair." She laughed. "Though Agent Earth _did_ tell Caption Mattox she was calling in her _big-guns_. It would serve them right if I did."

"You've got to take advantage of the opportunities that present themselves Miss." Trowa smiled from behind his fringe of hair. "Ever heard the saying all's fair in love and war,"

Zechs couldn't help smirking as he fingered the enemies 'flag' in plain sight -- tied around his neck like a bandanna. "We do appreciate all your help." He smiled.


	11. Epilogue

Sally had her back to the door and her attention was wholly taken up by screen on her desk. Une stood leaning on the doorframe undecided as to whether she should wait the doctor's attention, interrupt or return at another time, when she recognized the voice on the vid-phone,

"So he just came waltzing in with the flag around his neck?" came Agent Fire's voice tinny and strained as it bounced from satellite to satellite all the way from mars to earth.

"Well waltzing isn't the right word, more like limping assertively." Sally chuckled, absently twirling one of her pigtails around her finger time and again. It was no wonder they had been trained to stay in such tight coils.

"What does the man do that isn't assertive…or any of them for that matter?" Noin's reply was flippant, but Une had read enough of agent Fire's reports to realize she was missing her charismatic partner to ease the workload.

"Yes, They certainly know how to get the job done with style." Sally nodded.

"Panache," -fzzzt—rest of noin's comment was lost due to static, interference from a solar flare no doubt. It made real-time communications with Mars chancy at best.

Sally tried to readjust the signal but it only got worse. "I'm loosing you Lu."

"—derstod, Sal' –atr thanks—bye." Noin's voice stuttered over the airwaves.

"Later" Sally echoed before closing the connection.

"So you really think they are doing all right?" Une asked entering the office and closing the door behind her.

"The Mars team?" Sally asked raising an eyebrow.

Une shook her head, "The boys." she corrected settling into the chair opposite the healer's desk. "I know you've noticed the…changes; Are they…is this some sort of warning sign? I thought they were doing all right but…What is your professional opinion?"

"You are concerned." Sally observed.

The director nodded, eyes downcast, long earth-toned hair falling in her face. Anne swept it aside with one hand deftly tucking the strands behind her ear but made no move to restrain the fall further.

"I understand." Sally nodded. "Just because your…issues…manifest themselves in conjunction with changes in your physical appearance does not mean this is the case for everyone. Heero, Quatre WuFei and Zechs have changed their hair in a conscious attempt at self-expression not as a symptom of impending psychosis."

"You are sure?" Anne Une looked pensive, manicured fingernails picking at her lower lip.

"Quite sure. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Duo and Trowa were to follow suit. Duo won't cut his hair I'm sure, but as soon as he sees those bat-shaped barrettes they have by the register at the commissary he's going to want them. Trowa is a mystery. I can't say I know him well enough to judge what he will do."

"Barton won't change," Une sounded confident, so much so Sally cocked her head in such a way as to urge her to continue. Ann was only too happy to oblige, "He likes the way the circus lions groom him."

"What?!" The doctor's eyes widened. "How do you know…"

"Agent Sky's reports are very thorough." Une smiled, "and he has a rather broad definition of 'mission related details."

"Why am I not surprised?" Sally scoffed, "Any other good gossip you'd like to share?"

"Why doctor, I'm sure you know all about employer/employee confidentially. I protect my agents…and their reputations."

"I'm sure you do Director. One question though, Do you mother all your agents with the same dedication?"

"Only the ones I've tried to have killed on multiple occasions. I worry for them…even that scoundrel Zechs I suppose. We never did get on…before…I suppose I was too jealous of the attention Mister Treize paid him."

"Hm" Sally made a noncommittal sound, now twisting the pigtail on the opposite side around her finger-- Around and around till the coiled spring hung just so.

"You know." Anne said thoughtfully, "I don't really mind Ms Catalonia… um… Jacking my style… as Maxwell put it. "I don't need the 'Scary Une Buns' any more. I think I am much more content as I am. I hope it is the same for the boys."

"I couldn't have said it better my self." Sally smiled. "Speaking of Dorothy, she and Relena should be just about finished meeting with the colonial delegates… What say we join them for lunch?"

"You just want to be the one to tell the vice foreign minister her brother got stuck up a tree." Une smirked.

"Per-haps," Sally drew the two syllables out playfully …still twirling her pigtail.

Une smiled.

----------------  
Authors note: Well I'm afraid this is it for this little drabble series. I can't think of any more to write. Une was reluctant to participate and Sally was convinced there was nothing to say about her style but after much persuasion, well, you've read for yourself. I appreciate all the reviews and encouragement this little exercise has received. It certainly turned out more than the one shot I thought it to be. It has been fun, I wasn't sure I could manage to keep each chapter under 1,000 words but I did. It was a good exercise. I've got plenty of other (much longer – more involved) projects in the works. I'm not quite ready to start posting any of them just yet but check out my profile page of you want to learn more; and as always review, or PM me with any questions, comments ideas etc…. Thanks ~wraith


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